My True Love (12 Days of SwanQueen)
by eSQuses
Summary: Sometimes it happens so quickly. Life changes right before your eyes and when you blink, the world is right again. SQ/SwanMills family fluff!
1. 12 Snowballs Flying

**In honour of the season, here is the first of 12 days of SwanQueen. Lots of fluffy times ahead, as one December Regina and Emma fall in love. I will (hopefully) be updating everyday from now to the 25th as a countdown to Christmas. If I miss one day (work has been crazy busy), I will endeavour to post two chapters the following day.**

 **Your thoughts and responses would be much appreciated. I hope you enjoy this little fic and thanks for reading!**

The snow drifted down Main Street, as Emma Swan tugged her collar up to block the harsh wind. Perhaps she should consider buying a winter coat. It was a brutally cold December this year, and she subconsciously counted the months till spring. Not short enough.

The familiarity of the red leather jacket grounded her. She traced the scuff marks like battle wounds on an old friend – on herself. The words sounded strange even in her own head, but this jacket gave her a sense of identity. Shopping for a new identity was less than appealing, but there was also a desperation in her to change _something_.

"Hook, what did you do to me?" It came out as a groan, but rumbled inside with discontentment.

She was searching. All her life she had been searching for identity. She latched onto people fiercely as a young child, placing identity in foster families. When she was repeatedly sent away, she disconnected from everyone. People were not to be trusted.

Her identity fell into slots. Young Emma had pulled it from people, older Emma found it as a thief, a runaway, a prisoner. It is said you should never lose who you are, but how do you hold onto nobody – nothing. 'Who am I?' was a question Emma always battled. The question haunted her once again, as the remaining strands of Hook vanished from her life. Today – now – was a new chapter, one she approached with trepidation.

It devastated her. Finally, she had allowed herself to trust, to hope for a moment that there was a future where she would fit. This Saviour game was a sham. Villains don't get happy endings, because of their pasts. Heroes continuously battle for their happy endings. But Saviours…Saviours sacrifice their happy endings for the good of all. Nobody _really_ wins in the end.

Emma concluded happy endings don't exist. They are merely a figment of a desperate soul's imagination; swiping at a shattered reality, if you will. True love was another question in her mind. It was fairytale-esque to be sure, but illogical in the real world. Her parents had _something_. They had suffered for each other, all splitting hearts and loyal solidarity. Love must be built, fought for. Emma didn't buy that 'find your true love and it will last forever' nonsense. Some things seemed too good to be true, or maybe cynicism had reached her heart.

As the wind grew colder, Emma shuffled into a nearby store, brushing snow from her hat and jacket. Time for a new start. A row of coats caught her eye, and she headed towards their rack.

"Good afternoon, Sheriff. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Emma ripped her mind from its worries. "Uh, yes actually. I'm looking for a winter coat."

"Quite nippy out there today, isn't it?"

Emma nodded politely, wishing the chit-chat would stop. She just wanted to get a decent winter coat and leave. The friendly chatter became a sales pitch within seconds, and ten minutes later Emma donned a brand new black coat. She twisted around in the mirror, examining it from every angle. Satisfied she could live with this change, she paid, and stepped back out into the snow, leather jacket now tucked away in a plastic bag.

Laughter echoed down the street. The children piling out of school threw snowballs at each other, and handfuls of fluffy flakes into the sky. Some even dropped their backpacks on the ground and created snow angels, loving the freezing wonderland as only children can. Emma scanned the group for Henry, but the blue coat and striped scarf was not there.

Of course he wasn't. Regina always picked him up from school on Thursdays. Emma smacked her head absentmindedly, quickly rubbing the spot soothingly. She found it harder lately to be the third wheel. New York had given her a sense of belonging with her son and though she knew Regina had mothered him for most of his life, it was still incredibly difficult to share the role.

Again, identity. Henry was so vital to her well-being sometimes she pulled away just to ensure he was not burdened by her. Snow and David – Mom and Dad – were preoccupied with her little brother. And, Regina – Regina was merely a friend, who was quickly becoming Emma's greatest confidant as of late. Snow prided herself on filling that role, being the mother Emma always needed. Still, there were things Emma couldn't tell Snow. Dark things the misplanted princess would not understand. With Regina, Emma only had to allude to it, and she would be met with a look of complete understanding. It was encouraging to be heard and not judged for her demons.

Emma steered her steps towards Mifflin Street, hoping her presence would not be unwelcome. She tried to give them space, but learning this new 'my time-your time' schedule mildly irked her. True, Regina had given her a blissful year with Henry at great personal loss. The least she could do was leave them alone one day a week. Her stubborn heart and feet overrode her mind. Mifflin Street it was.

The lengthy walk was half snowed in, the other half being cleared by mother and son. Henry's chatter reached her ears first, animatedly recounting his day. Regina's deep tones interrupted once in a while with a question or comment. Emma watched Regina pause in her shovelling to flick a half-shovel of snow in Henry's direction. The boy glanced up at the snow-laden tree above him and shrugged. Regina smirked, waiting till he continued to work before dumping a whole shovel over his head. Henry's gasp could be heard all the way at the street. He squirmed as the snow melted against his hot neck and ran down his back, glaring playfully at the sight of Regina's innocent expression.

"Thanks a lot, Mom."

"Did the tree get you again?"

Henry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, the _tree_ did."

Emma stifled a laugh from her position outside the gate. Henry bent down to brush off his boot. It was a calculated move, and Regina didn't see it coming until it was too late. A handful of snow was shoved down the back of her coat, and she yelped in surprise. Henry was doubled over in laughter at the shock painting Regina's features.

"You better run, boy!"

Henry's eyes widened comically, a glimpse of the Evil Queen glinting at him from behind black eyes.

"Aw, come on, Mom. Let's hug it out."

Emma shook her head furiously, for a moment completely oblivious to the fact that Regina couldn't see her. Henry invaded his mother's space, a coyly sweet smile on his face, and Regina surrendered. Arms open, she embraced her son, a look of gratefulness replacing revenge.

"No," Emma groaned, as Henry spread two fistfuls of snow around Regina's neck. Emma grabbed a handful of snow and, with perfect aim, hit the back of Henry's head.

"Ow!" he protested, whirling around to see his other mother standing heroically in the middle of the pathway, covered with a dusting of snow.

Regina's hand flew to her chest dramatically, "My White Knight."

Henry scowled, bending to the ground for another handful of snow. Emma's movements were swifter though, and before he could form a ball, she pelted him again. Shouts of 'no fair' filled the air, but fell on deaf ears. Henry realized it was a losing battle two seconds before another perfect snowball flew. He dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way, leaving Regina exposed to the hurtling snow.

Utter silence obscured the soft thud-thud of melting snow slipping off the mayor's roof, warning her of an impending avalanche. Emma's latest sphere had collided with Regina's head. White mingling with dark hair and reflected in the even darker eyes. Like a frightened child, the blonde's first instinct was to run, but her feet were frozen to the path, either by wonder or by fear.

Henry gasped from the lawn, as Regina bent to retrieve her own weapon. Emma stood still, almost too still, awaiting her punishment. Such an easy target, like a free pass on a turn gone wrong. Regina threw. Henry's eyes followed the circle's arc, closer, closer, closer to his blonde mother. And then, she ducked. The snowball exploded on the sidewalk, blending into the blanket covering the ground.

Henry snickered, swallowing the sound suddenly, as Regina caught his collar and pulled him up. His mouth was the perfect oh, but his eyes shone brightly, willing Emma to understand the unspoken words.

"It seems I have a prisoner of war, White Knight. What are you willing to trade for his release?"

Emma glanced around her, searching for a worthy gift. Nothing. What can I give her?

"Would a hug suffice, your Majesty?"

Regina scowled playfully, "I believe a hug is what started this conundrum in the first place, Miss Swan."

"Uh-uh!" Henry retorted, "you dumped - "

One glare from his regal mother shut him up.

"What about an apology?" Emma asked.

"Tell me, how does a knight apologize to a queen?"

The tension lay thick around them, and Emma hoped Henry saw only the physical bickering, as opposed to the multi-layered tale Regina was weaving with her. She felt everything, every word resounding on so many levels, hitting her in places she didn't know Regina could reach.

In knightly fashion, Emma knelt on one knee, ignoring the snow melting into her thin jeans. She peered up at Regina, saving to her memory the way conflicting emotions raced across her tight face. The love of power and the amazement of Emma kneeling before her made the air too thick to breathe.

"I apologize for braining you with a snowball and ducking when you tried to retaliate. Please forgive me, your Majesty."

Regina nodded, and released Henry from the hug-hold she had him in, "Perhaps my page and my knight would care to join me for some apple cider."

Knight and page followed the queen like puppies into the mansion. After a few moments of rapid chattering in the kitchen, the page dismissed himself to go battle animated monsters, and the knight sat down across from her queen to soak in the quiet.

"I'm sorry I usurped your day. I just - I don't know why I came."

Regina handed Emma a mug of cider, "You're welcome anytime, Miss Swan."

"Emma."

"Em-ma," the response rolled off her lips like honey.

"Or," the honey was trapped in Emma's throat now, "White Knight, if you prefer."

"White Knight, it is," Regina winked. She leaned back and crossed her legs, still managing to look regal in jeans and a sweater. The blonde sipped at her cider, cupping the warm mug in her hands. She had expected this to be awkward, painful even, but there was an aura of safety within these walls. Emma craved more conversation, but held back counting the times her words had been shot down by well-meaning minds.

"How are you doing? I mean after - "

"Relieved," Emma paused to take another sip as if to avoid the longer answer. Regina remained silent, an open invitation to continue.

"I – I don't know how I ended up there. I didn't want a relationship. Not like that anyway."

"Love is often blind."

"But I didn't love him," Emma gazed at the swirling patterns shimmering in her mug, blinking back the shame flooding her eyes before it spilled down her cheeks, "I – I loved the idea of home and safety that I was willing to sacrifice who I was to have that. It was never him, merely an ideal."

"I understand. Robin and – believe me, I understand. Our stories are not so different."

Emma tilted her head and smiled shyly at Regina, You always seem to understand."

"When it comes to you, not always, White Knight."

"I'm glad I still hold an air of mystery for someone," Emma chuckled.

Unknown to Emma, those words woke a suppressed longing inside the Queen, and the depth of Regina's gaze made the Saviour wonder if she had struck gold.


	2. 11 Trees A'Trimming

"This one!" Henry leaned against a small fir, looking every bit the dapper gentleman. He lay his head on a branch, wincing as it poked his ear. The added weight of his wiggled escape caused the tree to sway dangerously before toppling over.

Emma smirked at Henry, "I don't think that one likes us, kid."

Henry stared down at the branches, "and to think I'd almost bonded already." He swung the tree back up, brushing green flecks off his jeans.

"What about this one?" Regina pointed to a large tree at the corner of the lot. It was tall enough to make an impression in the front window, yet small enough to get there without too much hassle.

"Perfect," Henry puffed into the cold air, poking his finger at the visible breath.

"Miss Swan?" Regina asked.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like this one?" the look in her eyes was something akin to needing approval. Emma melted at the sight.

"It's a nice tree, Regina. I've never been tree hunting before, so I'm not sure what you're looking for."

The mayor's face widened, "You've never - "

Emma shook her head, "There never was a need to decorate."

Henry stared at her, mouth agape, before turning to Regina, "Oh, my gosh, Mo-om! We need to - "

"Yes, Henry. I know."

"And get - "

"Already in the fridge, Henry."

"And - "

Regina laid her hand on Henry's shoulder to calm him, "Henry, I _know_."

The boy sucked in deeply, replenishing the oxygen robbed from his lungs. His mouth was twitching with the need to talk and Emma patiently waited for the words.

"Mom always made Christmas magical, Emma. You're going to love it."

"Magical, huh? I find that hard to believe."

Regina smirked, "Yes, well, you have found a lot of things hard to believe since you arrived here."

"I won't argue with that."

"What?" Regina's mouth dropped open, "No argument? I'm appalled, Miss Swan." She chuckled at Emma's lips pouting in mock offence.

Henry's humming distracted them, the low strains of his voice cutting through. Gradually, as his mothers' voices stopped, his began. As a whisper, then a little bolder.

"You better watch out, you better not cry. You better not pout, I'm telling you why…"

Emma slung an arm around Henry's shoulder, and grabbed Regina's gloved hand in her mittened one. She threw her head back, joining in with gusto, "Santa Claus is coming to town."

Regina stared, unblinking, at their joined hands. Emma smirked, gently squeezing the hand settled in hers, resigned to its temporary home. The brunette gasped inaudibly. The pressure of Emma's hand around hers warmed her completely. She nervously chanced a glance at Emma, painfully aware of the blush coasting across her cheeks, and hoped the blonde would chalk it up to the nippy air.

Emma, per usual, was oblivious, her attention focussed on steering Henry towards their perfect tree. With a burst of confidence, Regina squeezed back, earning a quick smile from the blonde; quick, but genuine. Regina attempted to read those warm, emerald eyes before they left hers. They flashed joy…joy and acceptance. Emma wanted to be with them – to be part of what she never had. And that was enough for now.

They reached the tree. Emma watched Regina's hand slip reluctantly from hers. Delicate gloves contrasted by warm mittens.

"Red leather, really?" Emma questioned.

"You're one to talk, Miss Swan."

The tree was half-dragged, half-carried to the parking lot by an ambitious blonde. Emma had stripped out of her coat, sweater, shirt, and stood in the snowy tree lot with nothing but a tank top on, muscles exposed to prove she was tough. Henry, exasperated, rolled his eyes and walked away, but Regina felt her mouth go dry at the sight, before she scolded the blonde, and tossed her the thin shirt.

Now, Emma slightly regretted her bravado, as her back groaned its objections. She dropped the tree beside the yellow bug and stretched the tense muscles.

"Are you okay, Emma?" Henry assessed her stiff movements.

"Mmhmm."

Reasonably satisfied that Emma was fine, Henry began pulling the bungee cords out of the trunk. Regina, however, saw right through her little assurance.

"Liar," she whispered, hot breath on cold ears. She ran a tentative hand down Emma's back, feeling it spasm under her fingers. The blonde nearly moaned at the touch. It wasn't so much that her back hurt (though it did), or the comfort of the woman's hand. It was – well, it was _Regina_. Regina was touching her, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Emma closed her eyes and dared herself to imagine.

"Emma! Mom!" A vibrant blush flared on Emma's pale cheeks. Nope – not going there. She took a step forward, immediately missing Regina's hand.

"We're coming, Henry."

Regina brushed Emma's arm lightly, "Don't hurt yourself."

The blonde gulped and hummed her response back to the sultry voice, "M'kay." She bent down to grab the trunk of the tree.

"Stop," Regina pointed to the top, "that end."

"Regina, I'm -"

The brunette's eyes flashed, "I don't care if you want to play Hulk on your own time, but I am not going to stand by and watch you break your back."

With a faux frown on her face, Emma stomped over and took the other end. Henry perched on the ledge of the car and centred the tree once his mothers hoisted it up.

"Wow, tough little mayor, aren't you?"

In less time than it takes for a swan to dive, Regina crowded Emma's personal space. "You have no idea _what_ I am capable of."

It was the smirk that irritated Regina the most. She was serious. Emma's little comment made her feel small – mocked even. This woman had to learn.

"What is so funny, Miss Swan?"

Emma shook her head, knowing better than to let the swallowed words escape, "Just get in the car, Regina."

Driving home, it was less than quiet. Christmas music played on the radio, echoed occasionally by two voices. Despite Emma's numerous attempts, Regina refused to sing. She blared the tunes, hoping it would induce safety for Regina, but the woman simply cranked it back down and raised a querulous eyebrow at her.

"Henry?" Emma threw over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Does your mother ever sing?"

Henry furrowed his brown in thought, "Sometimes – mostly in the shower though. She used to sing a lot more when I was little."

"Is that so?" Emma chuckled as a telltale vein in Regina's forehead was making its presence known. She stared, mesmerized, for a moment, as it began to pulse.

"How's her voice, kid?"

"Good."

"Like Sia good or like Adele good?"

"I don't know," the boy paused, "maybe Mariah Carey good."

"Well, now you've got me all curious." Emma winked at the brunette, earning her another blush.

* * *

Henry jammed the key into the lock, grinning at the click as he twisted, "Got it!"

Emma and Regina lifted the tree off the car with a fluid motion.

"Success!" the blonde proudly stated, seconds before half the tree slid from her hands to her head. The muffled 'what the hell' triggered Regina. Her deep laugh spread to Emma, seeping through piney branches. The blonde rolled the tree onto the ground, glaring wildly at the green beast.

Regina covered her mouth with one hand, the other tucked under her arm for warmth and balance. Emma shook her head sending pine needles flying every which way. Several spiky points slid down her back, causing her to involuntarily dance around the tree, an amusing hop, step, and shiver under the eyes of a queen.

Regina's piercing gaze met hers in a friendly smile. It burned and Emma blinked rapidly, cursing the liquid flooding her eyes. It was nonsensical - just a smile. Gratitude relaxed her, as Henry hopped down the front steps, giving her eyes a reason to leave Regina's.

"What is taking you guys so long?"

"Ask your Mom. She's the one who dropped a tree on my head."

Regina glared, but Emma caught the smile dancing about her lips. She trapped it in her memory to replay later. The smile assured her this was okay.

"Henry, Miss Swan dropped the tree on her own head."

"That sounds about right," Henry quipped, earning him a light jab in the arm.

"Tree – inside – now."

Emma grabbed the trunk, hoisting it over her shoulder like a lumberjack. Regina caught the end seconds before it whipped her in the face. Once in the foyer, Emma faced the stairs with an ounce of trepidation.

"How?"

"Just keep walking, Miss Swan."

"But…you'll get all the weight."

"And _you_ don't believe a tough little mayor can handle it?" Regina teased.  
Emma mounted the steps, tugging the tree after her, nearly dragging Regina up the stairs. The corner posed the next problem however, and as Emma turned the tree, Regina's end jammed into the upper staircase railing. Emma tugged, not able to see the top from her position.

"Pivot," the mayor's voice hit her ears.

"Regina? What's going on?"

"Pivot, Miss Swan!"

Emma turned and jerked at the same time, releasing the tree and knocking Henry over in the process.

"Ouch!" the boy picked himself up, brushing stray needles from his hair, "thanks, Emma."

Finally, after several more delays, the tree stood in front of the window. Henry busied himself hauling lights and ornaments down from the attic. Regina was sweeping up the needles littering the floor from the front door to the living room. Emma stood by the tree, imagining how it would look with lights and decorations. Regina probably had matching ornaments that blended to create an idealistic view from the street. Emma recalled one Christmas she ended up in a new foster home on December 21st. Not the greatest transition time for a seven-year-old. She spent hours staring at the family's tree, decorated with children's handmade ornaments and colourful toys. Emma wished upon the star shining from the top that she could belong like the names on those crudely painted ornaments. Two relatively happy months passed, and that dream shattered. Every time it shattered, and eventually hope fell from her vocabulary.

Emma had wandered so deep into memories, she did not hear Regina enter the room. It was only when the brunette lay a hand on her shoulder that she jumped, rudely tugged from past to present.

"How is your back?"

"Not too bad."

Regina picked a few pine needles from Emma's curls, "And your head?"

"I can barely feel it anymore," the blonde breathlessly replied.

"Good."

Regina let her hand wander a moment longer through snow-kissed curls, before it dropped to her side. The tension rose steadily, but neither woman felt ready to broach that discussion. Years of unspoken words lay between them like a moat begging to be forded.

"Thank you for inviting me to join you and Henry today."

"My pleasure."

Her voice was so close to Emma's ear, she _felt_ the intentional words. The hot breath against the shell of her ear sent shivers down her spine.

"We're not done yet."

 _I hope not._

"You still have so many things to experience."

 _Please, yes!_

"And I have so much to show you."

Regina's hand found its way to the small of Emma's back, rubbing slow circles.

"I want to fill your senses - " she paused.

 _You're killing me here, Regina."_

" - with Christmas."


	3. 10 Cups of Eggnog

**Thank you for your reviews and follows and favourites. Every one I see makes me smile. This chapter feels a little rushed to me, but here you go. Let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

There were so many boxes strewn down the stairs and across the foyer, Emma wondered if this was indeed Regina's house. While carrying the tinsel box, Henry had tripped on the bottom step, littering the floor with a shimmering carpet. Regina didn't so much as scold him, just asked him to clean it up when he was done.

Regina entered the room holding out a glass to Emma. The blonde took it gratefully, "What's this?"

"Eggnog, dear. Your son happens to believe he could survive on the stuff."

Henry grinned from his tinsel turf with an eggnog moustache topping his upper lip.

"See, Ma," Henry awkwardly slung his arm over Emma's shoulder, "to properly decorate a tree there are three necessities. One, music playing. Two, a roaring fire. And three, gallons and gallons of eggnog."

Emma took a sip of the sweet liquid, enjoying its silky smoothness on her throat, "I do believe you're right, kid."

Regina flipped the lid on the first container, revealing boxes of neatly packaged ornaments. She just as quickly closed it, scouring the row of boxes until she found the lights. The tightly wrapped strands seemed to be perfectly together, but as life repeatedly warns – things are not always what they seem. Regina tossed the first roll to Henry, who began unravelling it into a tangled mess.

"Here, let me help." Emma took the strand, uber confident in her ability to show her kid up when – what fresh hell was this? The lights were woven together like a green spiderweb, snagging at every opportunity. The more the blonde tugged, the more they tangled, until she was sure the evil spikes of the lights were winking at her.

"This isn't _fun_ ," Emma complained.

"I believe Henry said magical, not fun. You of all people should know the difference."

"Tell me, your majesty, what's magical about this?"

"Wait a few hours, and you tell me."

Leaving her two elves busy at work, Regina pulled a box of ornaments from the container and sat down on the couch. She cradled the box on her lap. Emma observed her from her perch in the hallway where she sat untangling strands of lights. The mother brushed her hand over the lid, as if protecting the memories inside, then lifted the barrier off.

The first ornament she pulled out was a reindeer with a foam body and twigs for antlers. It was liberally doused with red sparkles and a pom-pom graced its face for a shiny nose. Around the neck hung a tag.

As Emma crept closer to Regina, she read the scrawled letters of a little boy: To Mommy – Mery Crismas. Love Henry.

Regina spun the reindeer by the string several times before settling him on the table. Next came a snowman made of dried marshmallows, followed by a paper snowflake scribbled with red and green. Each one Regina admired, tracing the evolution of Henry's penmanship through the years, and each one was gently placed on the table as if it were the greatest treasure she owned. And they were, to a mother.

They were snapshots of childhood, memories of the good times when her world was still new and accepting. When her son would reach for her hand on their walk to school every morning and run laughing to her at the end of the day. Memories of tucking him into bed with a kiss on a freckled nose and hearing that baby voice pleading for 'one more hug, Mommy.' So many of those one more's had disappeared over the years, replaced by lasts.

Emma crept up behind Regina, studying the array on the table. This was her son too, painted there in greens and reds and whites. Her baby boy whose life she barely knew. Regina had experienced all this with him. She had been the smiling face accepting snowflakes and stars and reindeer from chubby hands. Emma felt a panicked jealousy, like she was ready to sweep into the room and steal the show, but there was no show to steal. Instead, she pushed herself back into happy memories and the joy of knowing Henry now.

"They're beautiful."

Regina nodded, and shifted over on the couch in a silent invitation. Emma gratefully accepted. One red ball caught her eye and she reached for it. Henry's picture was enclosed in a small frame built into the ball, a toothless nearly seven-year-old by the date. The photo captured all of his boyishness – ruffled hair, ruddy cheeks, and a huge smile. It amazed Emma how much she could see Regina in his expression. Blood is not the only tie. Nurture is the seal, and Regina was every inch his mother.

"Thank you for giving him all this. It couldn't have been easy working long hours and having a little boy to boot."

Regina shook her head, "I just wish it had been enough."

"Sometimes," Emma paused, seeking for the right words to reassure, "sometimes we don't realize what's right in front of us. Henry went through a rough patch, but he's okay now. He loves you."

Regina cradled a clay imprint of a baby's foot in her hands. Emma traced the outline, her finger dipping into tiny toes and sole.

"Do you remember him this small?" Regina's voice seemed distant from her body.

"I never held him."

Dark eyes searched her face. She could feel them trying to burn into buried thoughts and regrets.

"In the memories you gave me, I held him and raised him, but they're fading now. It's like a dream. I remember refusing to even look at him in the hospital."

"Why?"

"It was afraid if," Emma choked, "if I saw him I would keep him, and I wasn't ready for that responsibility. I wanted him to have his best chance, and that wasn't with me - " the blonde let her eyes wander to Regina's, " – it was with you."

Regina slowed Emma's rapid tracing which had escalated as she spoke. An understanding entered her eyes. _Just a scared little girl_ nagged in the back of her mind, and she tucked it away for later. This was a new Emma, a vulnerable and exposed Emma. One who regretted and hurt like the tough little mayor next to her. Regina cupped her hand over Emma's, sandwiching Baby Henry's footprint between them.

" _Our_ son brought you home for a reason."

Emma felt chills rush down her spine, the feeling of Regina's warm skin on her suddenly more than she could handle.

"What reason?"

"To be the Saviour, of course." The hot breath burned beneath her ear, spreading across her face.

"I'm not entirely sure I saved the one person who needed it most."

Regina held tighter to the hand beneath hers, "There's always time."

"Mom?" Henry's voice echoed down the hallway.

The two women sprang apart, and Emma reluctantly relinquished her hold on the imprinted plaque. The boy rounded the corner, just as Regina set it on the table with the rest.

"I got the lights untangled! Are you ready to decorate?"

Emma took the strand of lights from her son, "Absolutely! Let's string this bad boy up."

"Digging the lingo," Henry chuckled.

With a body positioned on each side of the tree, the trio passed the lights from hand to hand, consequently wrapping the pine in a white glow. Emma stepped back and crossed her arms, a grin spreading. Regina's eyes were fixated on her face, watching how the white lights danced in forest green, how they illuminated that almost childlike wondering gaze. It _was_ magical. Unlike her raging crimson curses or fearful protections, this was pure magic. It was light and heavy, beauty and madness, shallow joy and deep peace. It was Emma.

"Apple?" Henry held out the scarlet wooden fruit, hanging on his finger by a string. Regina paused, inwardly acknowledging the contentment of the moment. Henry had grown into a young man so quickly, and the tumultuous years were thankfully subsiding. He had forgiven her and, to Regina's secret delight, he was learning to trust her again.

Regina crushed him in her arms, the words stuck in her throat. _I am so grateful for you. So proud of you. So amazed by who you have become._ Henry, his height surpassing hers, stretched to tuck her head under his for a second. Then, the teenager returning, he pulled back, nervously twisting the apple in his hands. He smiled, a genuine broad-faced smile, and she understood.

Emma, in the meantime, had gone to war. This was her first tree and, by golly, she was pumped. She was trimming it left, right, and centre, not even bothering to wait for her cohorts. Regina laughed at the blonde, who looked rather like a wanna-be elf. On her head sat a Santa hat slouched like a beanie, with piqued ears poking around the brim. Her happy hop-skip around the tree reminded so much of her elvish counterpart, Regina giggled.

"Okay, Buddy," Regina planted the reindeer in Emma's hands, "don't let that smile crack your face."

"Smiling's my favourite though," Emma winked, tugging her hat further down over blonde curls, but only succeeding in bending her ears over. When they flipped back, the hat nearly flew off her head.

Seeing as Henry was busy hanging sleighs and stars and icicles on the other side of the tree, Regina seized the day. She removed the hat from Emma's head, brushing the unruly curls behind her ears. She took note of the red tips, the shy blush spreading down to the sheriff's cheeks. Regina replaced the hat, rosy ears now hidden under white fluff.

"That's better, little elf."

Emma rolled her eyes, still unable to keep the smile at bay, "Thank you, Regina."

"Always a pleasure."

The next hours flew by in a rush of eggnog-fuelled excitement. Henry's propensity for the sticky liquid had obviously come from his blonde mother. Regina had lost count of how many glasses Emma downed. Somewhere around the fifth, the stereo volume had leapt from a mild twenty to a wild eighty. Emma refused to turn it down, until Regina sang. Her coaxing and Henry's off-key crooning led her.

"Sleigh bells ring – come on, R'gina. Are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening."

Henry swept into the middle of the living room, a candy cane in his fist, "A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight walking in a winter wonderland."

Emma slid her hat further back on her head, crouching down, letting her inner gangster show, and beat-boxing to the festive music flying around the room. That was enough, Regina couldn't handle it anymore. She snagged a candy cane from the box, and the duet became a trio.

"Later on, we'll conspire, as we dream by the fire," Henry looked up at his mother with awestruck pride, and down at Emma with second-hand embarrassment, "to face unafraid the plans that we've made walking in a winter wonderland."

"I got you to si-ing," the blonde sing-songed.

"Shut up."

"Hey!"

Regina blushed, "So, was he right?"

"Who?"

"Henry."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Emma teased.

"Pfft, of course I was – with Emma's genes and your intuition, I don't have a chance," Henry scoffed.

As the light outside grew dimmer, the ones inside shone with special warmth. The eggnog carton sat dejectedly empty on the table, every last drop drained by two frisky elves. Only one job remained.

At her insistence, Henry climbed onto Emma's shoulders, and Regina handed him the star. The finale. The queen held her breath, hoping Emma wouldn't topple into the tree with the weight of their son on her shoulders. But, for once, she was steady. Henry slid the star onto the highest point, unhooking one light to place the plug in its socket. From the mayor's window, glowing for all of Storybrooke to see, the golden star marked the ending of a perfect day. One, a certain White Knight might even dub magical.


	4. 9 Ready Reindeer

It was a frosty morning, when Emma set the bag of groceries outside the mansions door, and waited for Henry's sleepy head to make an appearance. The house sent off an aura of solidity amid the stark whiteness around it. She raised a ready fist to knock, wondering how Regina would respond to her shenanigans at seven o'clock. Not well, she guessed.

Options. Options. Well, she could always break in the back door, or try to pry open the living room window. She stepped off the porch, and squinted up to what she supposed was Regina's bedroom window. What kind of reaction would the mayor have if…

" _Taking Sleeping Beauty to another level since 1983,"_ she muttered, throwing her coat on the front steps.

The tree loomed like a giant next to Regina's window, thick branches spreading out protectively. The swan leapt, grabbing the lowest branch and hauling herself up. She straddled the branch, gazing above her and planned her attack. Up two, across one, and up again. The spacing would be perfect – until she had to reach for the window, but she would cross that bridge when she got there.

Emma hopped up and across with agility and strength, her shadow dancing on the ground daringly. It was exhilarating and if it not for the chill of the morning air, she would have been tempted to climb right to the top. Regina window was now less than five feet away - five feet of thin branch.

Emma lay on her stomach, inching closer and closer to her goal. The end of the branch tickled Regina's window in response. As the blonde slid, wood bowing under her weight, the brunette rose to use the bathroom, the scratching against her window waking her from slumber.

It is eerie to feel eyes watching you, especially in the confines of your own home, even more so in the confines of your own bedroom. Regina stopped halfway to the bathroom. Something was amiss. She turned, and screamed. Emma was peering in her window, clinging to a stick in the sky, reaching for her sill.

The window flew open and a Swan tumbled inside, sheepishly grinning at her saviour.

"What the hell is this, Miss Swan?"

"I wanted to make you breakfast to say thank you for last night, but the door was locked."

Regina's cloudy eyes darted from the snowy blonde to the tree outside her window. The absurdity of the moment baffled her sleep-fogged brain.

"I want you to go downstairs and think seriously about your actions."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going back to bed," Regina scowled, pushing the blonde into the hallway and shutting her door. Emma grinned, vaguely aware that when the eggnog and cider effect of the previous night fully wore off she would not enjoy this memory quite so much. But for now, she was in _the house_.

"You know there's Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. Oh, but do you recall the most famous reindeer of a-a-ll?"

Emma leaned against the kitchen counter, snapping her fingers, as Henry drummed the rhythm on the countertop. _One-two-three-four._

"Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer had a very shiny nose."

"Like a lightbulb," Henry shouted towards the ceiling.

"And if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows."

"Like a flashlight!"

"All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names," Emma spun around the kitchen, a mixing bowl and whisk in hand.

"Like Pinocchio."

"They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games."

Henry wrinkled his nose, "Like Monopoly."

"That's what we should play one day!" Emma exclaimed.

Henry shook his hand across his throat, looking anxiously up the stairs, "Not with _her_. Promise me you will never play it with her, Emma. She will kick you out and never let you back in."

"There's a story here somewhere, isn't there?"

Henry shrugged, "Don't worry, it wasn't me."

The stairs creaked under Regina's weight, causing mother and son to look up with wide-eyes. A sleepy Queen entered the kitchen, wrapped in a robe, her hair mussed and wavy. Emma licked her lips inadvertently.

"Do you not know the meaning of silence?" Regina yawned, blocking her mouth with one hand and stretching the other into the air.

"It's golden?" Henry guessed.

Regina shot him a pointed glare, too sleepy to be fierce, "After a rude awakening by that c _reature_ tumbling through my window, the least you could do was let me sleep."

"My fairytale dreams are dashed," Emma drawled, flipping a pancake high in the air. She smiled with satisfaction, as it hit the griddle like a bulls-eye. On the plates next to the stove, an assortment of festively shaped food was growing. Regina's plate was especially loaded. A reindeer pancake, with chocolate antlers, surrounded by fruit created a tempting display. If Regina was impressed on any level, she didn't show it. Slipper-clad feet moved across the tiled floor, stopping by a stool. Regina hoisted herself up with a groan and lay her head on the counter.

"She's not a morning person, in case you've noticed," Henry whispered to Emma from his stool, purposely loud enough to be caught by Regina's ears. She shifted her weight back and forth, wiggling the stool closer to her son. Henry shrank on his perch, and Regina wrapped her arms around her little boy, who wasn't so little anymore. He pretended to push the embrace away, but he would be lying to say he didn't want it. Surrender came quickly, and the boy shifted in his seat and hugged Regina back, "Good morning, Mom."

"See," Regina glanced accusingly at Emma, "that's a better way to wake up."

Emma sighed dramatically, "Well, my Majesty, perhaps this will help."

She set the plate of food in front of the queen, watching her desperately trying to keep her appreciation at bay. There was something sad in the way her face contorted to hold back only the emotions she approved. Emma promised herself that one day she would see Regina full and free, every façade stripped away and only the true woman inside standing. For now, she was content probing beneath the surface layers, and knowing the beautiful brunette was eyeing the meal.

"I didn't realize you could cook, Miss Swan."

"There are a lot of things you don't realize. Ridiculously delicious reindeer pancakes just happen to be my speciality."

Henry was busy shovelling the fluffy food into his mouth, "They are ridiculously delicious, Mom!"

"Please, my queen," Emma swooped her hand across the counter as if displaying the meal, "if you don't trust me, take Henry's word for it."

Regina cut a corner of the soft pancake off and brought it to her mouth. Sweet, syrupy goodness flooded her taste buds and she couldn't help but let loose a moan. Embarrassed, she swallowed the moan with the bite, hoping Emma had been oblivious.  
Emma wasn't though, and from her position in front of the stove, she grinned. If her smile had been any bigger, she was sure her face would crack. For the first time she could remember, she was okay. She was even happy. The fear she usually felt around others had faded with her apprehension. This felt like home, and a true home doesn't dump you on the stoop in the frozen air for chipping a dish or breaking silence. Emma shook her head clear of the memory.  
A true home keeps you, guards you, and cares, even when the world is pounding at the door with swords and torches. Should that day come, Emma felt safest with the two sticky faces behind her, and they felt safest with her.

* * *

Regina Mills was busy. Christmas was usually peaceful. This year the dwarfs had volunteered to set the tree up in the middle of town, which took a great weight off her shoulders to find someone to accomplish that task. Robin Hood refused to sell trees to about half the town for various reasons, although Regina had deciphered most of them; anybody close to her, anybody who had avoided the woods surrounding Storybrooke generally due to the man's poor choices, and anybody who questioned him about his villainous wife. For the meagre remainder of the town, however, Merry Men Christmas Trees was open for business, and stock was at a standstill. The rest of the town went to the dwarfs for help.

Currently, Leroy was heading up the tree selling business, and grumbling about the flyer all over town sporting his face plastered on Grumpy Cat to try and garner more customers. It may not have been the most effective move, but people _were_ coming. At Regina's request, Leroy reserved the largest tree he could find to stand proudly in the middle of Storybrooke, and organized a team to haul it out there and string the lights.

Regina watched the whole process from her office window, as the tree was cautiously carried down the street by six little men, one who appeared to be allergic to pine. Every couple feet a new array of needles blew into the air and down the street. Content that the task was being done adequately (if not effectively), she sat down at her desk.

A resounding knock on Regina's office startled her. She shot up, lips parted in a beautiful circle, "Who is it?"

"Lunch delivery."

"Ruby?"

The door opened and the tall brunette walked in. She carried a Granny's take out bag, which was set on Regina's desk.

"I did not order anything."

Ruby shrugged and shot a secret smile to the mayor, "Special delivery."

When she left, the brunette opened the bag and pulled out its contents. A kale salad – cliché, but accurate, a chicken salad sandwich, and a thermos of something hot. Printed around the thermos were leaping reindeers, and inside, Regina realized after smelling the contents, was hot cocoa. She dug her fork into the salad, suddenly aware of her stomach rumbling, and reached for her phone. Regina didn't think she would ever become accustomed to this new technology, but it was helpful to have constant access to people without the exhaustion of teleporting. Besides, Henry had requested a mostly magic-free life, and she was doing her best to honour that.

Regina slid her finger across the screen, unlocking the phone, and searched for her name.

 _Thank you for lunch, Miss Swan. That was very considerate._

She unwrapped the foil, sank her teeth into the sandwich, and leaned back in satisfaction. Her phone buzzed, signalling a text.

 **My pleasure. A queen needs to eat.**

 _Breakfast and lunch…I feel spoiled._

 **As you should. : )**

Unbidden, a smile stretched across her face. She shook it off, and leaned back in her chair to read the message.

 **I know I mentioned it at breakfast, but thank you for yesterday. It was great to share those experiences with Henry and you. It meant a lot to this White Knight. *reindeer emoji***

The mayor swallowed a deep-throated chuckle.

 _I am glad you enjoyed yesterday's festivities. You are always welcome to join us, White Knight. Why do you have a reindeer picture?_

 **Emoji, Madame Mayor…and I couldn't find an eggnog one. So, Dasher will have to do.**

 _I see. Who did I eat this morning, then?_

 **Would you kill me if I said Vixen, my Queen? ;)**

 _You have quite the mouth, Miss Swan._

 **Name me.**

 _Pardon?_

 **If you're Vixen, who am I?**

There was a lengthy pause with rippling dots, and an impatient sheriff paced the office waiting for the mayor's response. Emma stared at her phone, wondering if she needed to retract her request. Deciding it was unnecessary, she busied herself around the sheriff's office supposedly making good use of the tax-payers dollars, but in reality playing darts. Finally, her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans, sending shockwaves through her body.

 _Cupid._


	5. 8 Stocking Stuffers

**Thank you so much for your follows and reviews! Each one makes me smile. I am grateful for all of you!**

* * *

 _Regina. Regina. Regina._

Emma speed-walked around the mall, dodging frantic shoppers who looked like zombies in the rush of things. Emma wondered if she looked the same. This whole outing went to remind her how secluded Storybrooke really was. The slow, steady pace of life had grown on her. Maybe it was the still after the storm she was craving. This madness quelled the quiet like the wake of a new storm. Sure, there was a sense of joy and giving in the hustle and bustle. Yet, it almost seemed forced, like stubborn children who knew how they ought to behave, but lacked the heart to back it up.

Emma paused, motionless in the middle of it all, letting the waves of people rush around her like an ocean. It was a powerful feeling, being a rock in chaos; one Emma wondered if Regina knew. Of course she did, Regina always seemed to be that rock. Or was that just for her?

The blonde stepped back into the ocean, timing her steps with the crowd around her. She paused at several stores, fingering beaded necklaces and flowing scarfs. Nothing called out Regina. One place sold stockings, and she went in searching for the perfect one. Snowmen, snowflakes, gaudy red and green displays of holiday fuzz – Emma felt trapped. She was torn between lowering her expectations and choosing for a Queen.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. Simple, but beautiful. It had a crimson background, much more regal than the jolly red boasted in the rest of the store. Tiny snowflakes fell from the top, each individually stitched to their own unique pattern. At the brim was a space for a name and Emma ensured _Regina_ was embroidered there in swooping letters.

Emma made her first purchase, eagerly placing the money down on the counter and murmuring her thanks to the cashier. Now, to fill it. A nagging voice in her head told her this would not be so easy. Regina was more than likely a picky person, but Emma had a feeling that she never received as much as she gave. A stocking hanging beside her son's on Christmas morning Emma hoped would make her smile if nothing else.

The mittens were an easy find – warm and woollen for this winter's cold spell. Those thin leather gloves, no matter how sleek, couldn't keep her this warm. Emma ducked into store after store, buying soaps, nominal household gifts, and chocolate. It didn't seem to be enough. She wanted to find something meaningful. Something Regina could look back on for years and remember this Christmas.

The jewellery store loomed at Emma, dragging her in. The salesman smiled at her encouragingly. Rows upon rows of glass cases displayed sparkling diamond rings, golden chains with lockets and charms, bracelets, and a vast assortment of earrings. Emma ran her hand over the glass, analyzing the various pieces she passed.

"Can I help you?"

The blonde jerked her head up at the sound.

"Who are you shopping for today?"

A shy smile sent some blush to her cheeks, "A – a friend."

Leading her over to the nominal necklaces, the salesman began explaining the quality between various chains. Emma barely heard a word. There, in the middle of the case, it stared up at her. She turned away for a second, telling herself it was presumptuous to buy such a thing for Regina.

A friend – she had told the man she was shopping for a friend. That was true, wasn't it? And this piece melded them together in a permanent design. But then again, there were thousands of friendship necklaces out there that seemed to say more than anticipated.

Emma couldn't rip her eyes from the charm on the end, "May I see that one?"

"Which piece, Ma'am?"

"The - " Emma coughed nervously, " – the Swan."

The salesman removed the necklace, laying it on the counter under her watchful eyes. It was beautiful, a smooth golden Swan with tiny diamonds for eyes and an ornate crown with inlaid diamonds on its head. It was not flashy, did not beg for attention, but shouted its worth just the same. Just like Regina.

Emma took it. She winced slightly at the price. No. Regina was worth it. Tucking the box into her bag, she continued her shopping spree, a warmth filling her heart in anticipation of Christmas.

* * *

Regina sat like a spy in the dark Mercedes, staring at the string of rushing shoppers without really seeing them. Since the freedom from the multiple curses, she preferred to leave Storybrooke for her weekly errands. There was something about escaping to the city where nobody knew of her past or her pressures, which made Regina feel release. Today, however, a new idea sparked this mission.

She tried to convince herself it was a bad idea. This was too soon. They hadn't even spoken of plans or the ever-growing tension between them. The open invitation for Emma to join her and Henry in their holiday traditions sent butterflies soaring in Regina's stomach. She quelled them with the thought of Emma at her stove pouring thick batter onto the griddle and swaying her hips gently to the strains of Christmas music floating through the house. _That_ felt right. And if _that_ felt right, who was to say this was wrong? Basing her decision on the peace in her spirit, she locked the car and stepped outside.

Soft flakes fell from the grey sky and created blotchy murals on the pavement. The mayor tugged her coat firmly around her and joined the stream of shoppers entering the mall. She normally avoided the larger commercialized centres, but it was cold today, and Regina was running out of time.

She headed first to a couple stores to pick up Henry's gifts. Two new video games, a remote controlled drone, and a couple books he had surprisingly requested. On the way, she paused to note stocking stuffers for the one person she wanted desperately to know. It is one thing to fight someone, lecture someone, save someone, but quite another to know their likes and dislikes, to understand the small things in life that make them smile.

The ornament store was where Regina stopped. An idea began taking shape in her head. All the decorations she collected through the years symbolized memories, reflections of her life and her journey. Emma's path had brought her to many places, some memorable, some heart-wrenching, but all part of her story. She decided to give Emma her story.

First, Regina found the tree, a simple design with a hole in the centre and an owl on the upper branch. Perhaps Emma could explain away the owl, but in any case it was Emma's entrance to this world. Next, a yellow Volkswagen with flowers on the side caught her eye. She almost squealed with delight at the perfect little car, forgetting for a moment how much she was supposed to despise the real coffin on wheels. This little replica was a perfect representation. As she scanned the shelves and displays, Regina played out Emma's life (or what she knew of it) in her head. This stocking was going to cost her a fortune, but she didn't care.

Into the basket went a Disney figure of Snow White with her birds, followed by Charming and his sword. A motorcyclist in a red leather jacket, a suspicious looking vial, and a sheriff's star came next. Finally, a sweet first Christmas ornament of a mother cradling her newborn son in her arms. Sharing didn't come easy to Regina. Henry was her son. A sweet thought of _hers_ becoming _ours_ darted into her mind where she let it dance for a moment before kicking it out. Hope slipped from her grasp so easily these days, she didn't want to dream. At least, not yet. One thing she knew, she was going to make Emma's first true Christmas something to be remembered.

As Regina approached the checkout, with her basket of goods, a red flash caught her eye. There in a central display was a heart. She generally hated hearts. There were associated with dark times in her mind, and when used commercially were often inaccurate and juvenile shapes. This one, though, this one was different. It was accurate, but softer somehow. Regina thought to the touch it would be like feathers.

A heart. Maybe it was too much, but maybe Emma wouldn't take it as such. It was just an ornament. She was just telling a story. Yet, part of Regina hoped that in her hand she held the ending.

* * *

Emma hid the bag of goods in her loft bedroom. She ensured the necklace was safely placed where no one would ever find it. Neal yelled for her from down the stairs, banging a toy hammer against the ground.

"Nemma! Nemma, home?"

She threw her hair into a quick ponytail, and took one last glance around the room to make sure everything was out of sight. The gifts she purchased for her family were already wrapped and stacked in the depths of her closet, covered by a blanket. Tonight, she would wrap Regina's, and wait patiently for Christmas Day.

Emma hurried down the stairs, scooping up her baby brother at the bottom. He smiled at her with a nearly toothless grin, and giggled as she kissed chubby cheeks.

"What did you do today, Neal?"

"Mama bake!" the boy shrieked far too loudly for the tiny apartment. Emma bounced lightly, supporting his head and dipping him to the floor. He grappled for Emma's arms, loving the sensation. It had been hard for Emma to use his name after he was born. Neal seemed too close and painful still. Time heals some wounds though, and her little brother gave her a new image in her head to replace the pain of her first love's name.

"Sounds fun, little man."

Snow smiled from the kitchen, "Are you joining us for dinner tonight, Emma?"

Emma felt a twinge of guilt. It seemed like weeks since she'd really been home, except to sleep and shower. She missed this – what family had become. Neal scrambling to his 'Nemma' for hugs, her mother's prying questions, her father's stories.

"Yep, I'm home tonight."

The relieved smile that spread across Snow's face told a million tales. Emma purposed to never forget, no matter where life took her, that home came in many packages. Sometimes, one person is your home, your base, and your whole world. Along with that there are other places we call home. A friend's house, a familiar coffee shop, or maybe a certain nook in the woods no one else knows about.

Perhaps, Emma considered, _home_ is simply the feeling we are safe and wanted by someone outside of ourselves.


	6. 7 Miss Swans

**I am so overwhelmed by the abundance of followers this little tale has garnered! Thank you all so much! This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I will be posting again tonight. I have to say, this one was a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy. :)**

* * *

" _Anonymity is a curse,"_ Regina thought, as she stared at the tickets in her hand. " _What am I going to do with these?"_

The note accompanying the tickets was typed on plain paper leaving no indication of who had sent them. She knew it was a well-meaning gift, but seriously, out of all the things to give a regal mayor for the holidays – this?

She reached for the phone, punching in the familiar ten digits, a little embarrassed about how quickly she recalled them.

"Hey, it's Emma. What's up?"

"Miss Swan, how do you feel about ballet?"

"Ballet?" Emma sounded incredulous…and genuinely so. Regina jumped to the conclusion it wasn't her sending mysterious tickets.

"You heard me."

"I – I don't really have an opinion. Pointed shoes and bubblegum pink aren't really my thing, but I suppose I admire the skill it must take."

Regina sighed, "I got these tickets - "

" _You_ bought tickets to a _ballet_?"

"I didn't buy them. They were mailed to my office with a typed note saying 'treat yourself and a friend.'"

Emma chuckled.

"What is it?"

"I was just picturing you and Henry sitting in your best clothes and watching a ballet."

"I wasn't going to take Henry. He would probably rather die than be seen with me at a ballet. I was going to take you."

"Me?" Emma squeaked, "like a date?"

"I suppose."

The pause on the other end of the line was unbearable. Regina felt her hands go clammy while seven thousand reasons why Emma Swan didn't care about her that way raced through her mind.

"O-okay."

Regina released her captured breath, "Good. I'll pick you up at six."

Emma moaned, "Do I have to wear a dress?"

"It's a black tie event, Miss Swan, but as long as it's not jeans and a jacket, I don't care what you wear."

* * *

Emma exited the building wearing a pea coat she obviously borrowed from her mother. It was a little short, but passed the queen's inspection. The drive to the theatre was intermittently interrupted by comments about the snow, Henry, vague remarks on Christmas, but neither woman seemed to know how to fill the silence. This was new. Emma usually hated emptiness, she rambled to obscure the wordless moments. This time it was comfortable, as though words were not necessary. She could trust Regina with her silence.

When they arrived, the setting was spectacular. They had the best seats in the house. Emma pulled off her coat, as Regina watched like a hawk on prey. Underneath a smart suit with a white shirt and a thin black tie set of her figure stunningly. Regina complemented her perfectly in a little black dress.

As the lights dimmed, and the tale began, Emma's tongue, like clockwork, started to wag.

"What in the world are they wearing?" Emma whispered, a little too loudly, in Regina's ear.

"Tutu's, Miss Swan. You _know_ that."

The blonde snorted, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

The characters fluttered around the stage, and Regina peeked out of the corner of her eye to see her date with amusement shining in her eyes. She appreciated the skill portrayed for them, but part of her simply wanted to watch Emma. The blonde now seemed intent on deciphering the story. A prince danced offstage, signalling the approach of Act II.

"This is ridiculous. How do they even twirl on their toes that long? And why does that stupid Prince want to kill a swan? I'm kind of offended. What is this called anyway? I - "

Regina set a finger over Emma's lips, effectively shutting her up, "Do you ever stop?"

The sheriff nodded, her eyes wide at the gentle pressure.

"Good. The Prince wants to kill the swan because he's an idiot, and this is understandably called Swan Lake. Watch."

Moments passed, and Emma was clearly enthralled by the storyline. Her eyes were glued to the stage watching every interaction between the prince and the swans. Regina silently blessed whoever sent her these blasted tickets.

"Who is that!?"

"Odette…she's the Queen of the Swans."

"So the SwanQueen comes to the prince and tells him she's under an evil curse?"

"Yes, it would appear so."

Emma chuckled, "That sounds like us. Swan…Queen, and you cursed the town once upon a time."

"So it does, Miss Swan," Regina murmured, "So it does."

Emma ducked her head in silent laughter, "Von Rothbart reminds me of Gold."

Regina chuckled, "I almost would like to see him dancing around turning everybody into swans with only a crown to protect them."

"Your crown, my Swan Queen," Emma winked.

Time passed again in silence. Emma consumed by the story on the stage; Regina consumed by the desire to hold her hand. This was a date after all, Emma wouldn't care. The last few days had been tortuous for the queen. Signals appeared everywhere, and she was still unsure of how to read them all. The teasing, and the blushing, and the genuinely gentle moments they had shared. After that, holding hands didn't seem so much.

She slid a tentative palm over her knee, her fingers itching to be closer. They fell into the space between them, still so far from their warm neighbour gripping her leg in suspense. Then, as Regina almost withdrew, Emma grabbed her hand and pulled it onto her lap.

"It's her!" the blonde seemed horrified, "the other one impersonated her. She's ruined!"

Regina didn't even drag her eyes from their tangled hands to the stage. It didn't matter to her. All that mattered was Emma's warm palm against hers.

"I hate ballets," Emma moaned.

"No, you hate sad endings," Regina squeezed Emma's hand in sympathy, "there is still one more act, Miss Swan."

"Regina?"

"Yes?"

"Please call me Emma."

The queen nodded in understanding.

"Say it."

Regina took a deep breath, knowing the word – the name brought them closer. Miss Swan was less personal. Emma was a new level. It was a hopeful gesture, or at least that's how the queen took it.

"Em-ma."

She smiled and Regina's heart skipped a beat, "Thank you."

Act IV concluded with broken curses and forgiveness, and a tearful Swan who vowed she would never go to another ballet, despite all of Regina's observations that it was the actual story, not the ballet that hurt.

"Do you want to go for coffee? Would that help?" Regina asked, stroking the back of Emma's hand with her thumb. The blonde was pouting, her eyes damp in betrayal as she glared at the stage.

"Yes."

"Then pull yourself from that foul mood and let's go."

It was snowing outside, thick flakes landing on noses and cheeks. Emma spread her hands out, pure white contrasting with her red mittens so vividly. In a spontaneous move, the blonde opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.

Regina watched amused, and entranced, as the flakes hit her tongue and melted on impact. Through the years she had fallen in love with every side of Emma. Her care and protection of those she loved, her stubbornness, her jealousy, her kindness. This side though, this childlike simplicity that still shone from her battered heart was Regina's favourite. It excited her. And that tongue, flicking at the snow…that wasn't fair.

Emma's eyes were shut, protecting those beautiful green eyes from the falling flakes. Regina's were wide open. She moved forward, standing on her tiptoes like the ballerina who portrayed the Queen of the Swans. She lay her hand on Emma's outstretched one, using it as leverage, and captured her open mouth.

Snowy bliss and a heated kiss. Emma responded immediately, as if she had been waiting, the swan tempting her queen. She pulled the hand Regina's rested on up, tugging her closer. Now, with no space between them, Emma wrapped the tough little mayor in her arms and kissed her thoroughly.

"Em-ma," Regina whispered, her breath creating patterns in the frosty air.

"Yes, my Queen?"

Regina bit her lip, conscious of how her next words could change everything, "Can I be your Swan Queen?"

"You're already my Swan Queen," Emma smiled, "and I'm your White Knight. I have one condition though."

Regina tilted her head, waiting for Emma to continue.

"Gold, or anybody, will not interrupt our story and it will not end _that_ way."

"Don't worry, my crown will protect you, Miss Sw - "

The blonde cleared her throat loudly.

"My Emma."


	7. 6 Mistletoe Kisses

**Hi, you amazing people! Again, I am overwhelmed by the amount of follows. It blows my mind. This is another Regina/Emma centric chapter (if you couldn't tell from the title), before I delve back into the whole SwanMills family. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"So, about what you said," Emma plopped down in the chair across the desk from Regina, and leaned her elbows on her knees.

"Good morning to you, as well," Regina raised an eyebrow at the sheriff.

"Yeah, yeah. Good morning. How are you? Did you sleep well? What's new? How's work? Good – now that's out of the way. Let's talk."

The questions fired by the impatient blonde so blatantly mocked her. Regina brushed the conversation away and redirected her attention back to the paperwork. If it wasn't for Regina's slight bite of her lip, Emma would have been offended. But watching the mayor dart a pink tongue over crimson lips to soothe the phantom pressure threw all thoughts of offence from Emma's mind.

"We – we need to talk, Regina."

The mayor trapped her gaze for a moment before letting her eyes fall to the papers again.

"Please?" Emma breathed, "Stop the power play. I get it – I was rude."

"And?" the mayor looked every inch a stern mother.

"I'm sorry for not saying good morning and storming in here with no warning."

The smile Regina sent flying across the desk at the childish pout on Emma's face was worth it.

"Talk, Swan."

Emma swallowed thickly, suddenly unsure of how to broach the subject. Yesterday was – unexpected- and completely anticipated at the same time. It spurred Emma to a dream she secretly held for years, but never imagined would become reality. Sorting through jumbled thoughts and emotions was driving her crazy, and chocolate eyes bored question mark holes in her skin. She felt frail all of a sudden. Fragile. Like that little girl who knew the tremors of a shifting earth, ready to run and hide at any spasm of change.

It was just a kiss. Regina probably kissed lots of people. Maybe it was another control tactic to weaken her. You know, literally kissing up to her. Emma licked her lips subconsciously – savouring the tingling her memory returned. It hadn't _felt_ like a power struggle. It felt gentle and right. And Regina's hand in hers felt like home.

"What happened last night?"

"I believe we went to a ballet and you complained endlessly about everything."

Emma shook her head, "You – you kissed me."

"Did I?" the brunette touched a tentative finger to her bottom lip, innocence painting her features. The blonde squirmed opposite her, wanting nothing more than to close the chasm of the desk and recreate the moment.

"Did you…mean it?"

"What do you really want to ask, Emma?"

"The past week has been wonderful. Henry and you and – I just need to know if I'm another trophy to hang on your wall or if there's something more."

Regina stood and slowly walked around the desk, heels clicking on the floor. She paused in front of Emma, offering her hand.

"Where - "

The fiercely impatient gaze was enough to slam the blonde's mouth closed. She took the offered hand, feeling her heartbeat accelerate as Regina led her to the doorway.

"Here is where I show you what you mean to me."

The mayor cupped her sheriff's face, rendering her speechless, and with one fluid movement she sank plump, red lips against hers. It wasn't just a kiss, and it certainly wasn't a power struggle. It was firm and soothing, like the passion of stormy waves coming to rest on the sand. Peace flooded Emma. She felt Regina's hand slide into her hair, cupping the back of her head, as her tongue brushed teasingly against pink lips. And then, it was over.

Emma blinked, the light glowing harshly into her kiss-fogged brain. Regina stepped back, "Tell me, _Em-ma_ , what do you think you mean to me?"

The blonde smiled shyly. She didn't honour the question with a response, but simply squeezed the hand enveloped in hers. After a beat, they separated. Emma glanced up at the mistletoe, blowing the greenery a kiss, as she all but skipped out of the office.

* * *

"To the left," Regina motioned to the dwarf trembling on the top of a massive ladder. The tree in the middle of the square was stunning, all white and red. The handmade ornaments from various townspeople hanging from top to bottom created an eclectic, yet together feeling. The star itself had been created by Snow who had recently taken up making stained glass in between raising a toddler.

Dopey finally succeeded in setting it on top of the tree, the colours shining over the street like a rainbow.

"Nicely done, Dope," Emma shouted, startling the dwarf who clung to the wavering ladder like a lifeline.

"Dope?" Regina ogled Emma.

"Nickname."

"Really, Emma – Dope?"

Emma smirked evilly, "Do you have a problem with the fact that I've nicknamed a dwarf and not you, Madame Mayor?"

"No!" Regina retorted a little too loudly, gaining the attention of several curious townspeople. One glare and they scattered like flies. Even a reformed Evil Queen can ignite fear.

Emma slid closer to the mayor, until her hot breath fell on cold ears, "I have plenty of names for you."

"Do – do you now?" the brunette stuttered.

"Mmhmm. Let's begin with A."

She pressed a kiss to Regina's flushed cheek and stole away. The brunette was stunned. Yesterday's Emma had tiptoed cautiously into her office begging for answers. Today's Emma was bold and sly. _How did I let her get under my skin?_

Regina's phone buzzed and she whipped it out to see Emma's face smiling up at her. Regina placed her finger on the friendly icon for a moment before swiping the screen.

 **Are you ready for your first name?**

 _Why did you leave?_

 **I'm sheriffing or my boss will give me grief. Ready for A?**

 _Your boss was not ready to dismiss you yet. Also, a certain dwarf is refusing to come down. Shall I call the sheriff or the fire department?"_

 ***sigh* I'm coming.**

A cruiser screeched to a stop by the tree, and the flash of gold caught the mayor's eye. It took much coercion and reassurances before Dopey found his feet on solid ground again.

Emma walked over to Regina, "Missed me already, huh?"

The queen lifted her head and grinned unabashedly, "Yes."

"You're adorable," Emma winked, "A."

* * *

"Tell me, what is B?" Regina sat down on the couch beside Emma, watching Henry battle a monster on his video game.

"B?" Emma questioned.

"I'm assuming your alphabet continues."

The blonde shuffled closer to Regina, watching Henry intently. He sat nearly motionless on the floor in front of them, nothing but nimble fingers flying.

Now, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, Emma peered at Regina from under hooded eyes, "How badly do you want to know?"

"What do you mean?"

"All my revelations come with a price."

"Is that so?" Regina's voice caught between a purr and a growl. "I suppose I can spare a kiss if that will suffice."

Emma leaned forward.

"Uh-uh. B is - "

"Pay up, woman. The answer comes after."

A perfectly arched eyebrow shot towards the mayor's hairline, "Do you promise?"

"On the magic of pixie dust."

"Stronger. Pixie dust can lie."

Emma scrunched her brows together in thought. Her face loosened with glee, as it hit her, "I swear on the power of true love's kiss."

Regina caught her lips with the last word, pressing her affirmation into the solid space. When her tongue grazed Emma's lips, they parted willingly. Regina smiled, feeling Emma's mouth quirking against hers. Her dark eyes fluttered shut, picturing the smile growing on the blonde's face. When breath vanished, she gasped. Eyes open to misty green. In an instant they were wrapped up in each other, each one feeling the decisions spreading like a looming precipice.

"B - " Emma whispered into Regina's ear, "you're so beautiful."

* * *

The next two kisses happened quickly and easily. One stolen between shifts, and the other after Henry went to bed. Emma stood at the door, loathing leaving. She teased Regina by singing 'Let It Snow,' but unforeseen by the blonde, Regina took it seriously and held her tight, crushing her between warm body and cold door before sending her home.

It was true. Songsters don't always lie. All the way home she was warm. Her lips sparked where Regina had touched them. A delicious tightness settled deep in her stomach and – other places. _Regina, what are you doing? What am I doing?_

Six. Six was a whole twenty-four hours later. Emma was dying the whole day. Regina was busy with people constantly; commissions and remissions and papers strewn across the desk. Her texts were not even getting straight answers, though that part wasn't much of a surprise. Six's night there was a party at Granny's - a Christmas party of sorts.

Emma paced the room, stopping to greet someone occasionally, but mostly worrying. She was late. It was abnormal when she was late to anything. In fact, the last time she had been late was probably Snow and Charming's wedding. Emma paused in the hall between the diner and rooms, and tapped her watch. Still working. She nearly made up her mind to go find the mayor when…

"Looking for someone?"

Emma spun around, "Yes, my - " she coughed, unsure of which word to use " – my son's mother. Have you seen her?"

"Describe her to me."

"Well, she's clever, daring, and exciting."

"Is that so? Continue."

Emma's eyes twinkled, "She's absolutely fabulous, and she's so good to me, heavenly even. Intelligent too, though a bit judgmental."

"I may have seen her, but you must continue so I can be sure it's the right woman."

"She's completely kissable and has this tantalizing light in her eyes. Magical doesn't even begin to describe her."

The dark-haired beauty encroached on her space, "Tell me more."

"Nurturing would describe her, especially as a mother. Open-hearted as well. Perhaps pretty would say something, but perfect is closer. Queen is closest."

"Queen is a high title indeed."

"Yes," Emma could breathe Regina's breath now, and it felt like life, "Regal in every inch. Slightly seductive sometimes."

Regina chuckled.

"But also tender and understanding and voluptuous," she winked, "she is every inch a woman. Full of so many experiences, but she can also be youthful, and zealous when it comes to saving those she lov – cares about."

Misty brown eyes met bright green.

"That doesn't sound anything like the woman you're looking for."

"Looking for? Didn't I mention I found her."

"When?" the Queen breathed.

"Between adorable and zealous," the Saviour whispered.

And this time – this time the world vanished, and it was only them pressing, clutching, pulling, savouring. It was only the room spinning and dipping in a maddening carousel around them. Only the humdrum ticking of the clock to bring order to beautiful chaos.

Regina was the first to seek air, kissing along Emma's jaw, as she breathed for the first time. Two full lungs and she was pulled in again. Unseen by the kissing couple, a pixie-haired spy stood stock still in shock. Snow's face glowed Santa-hat red. But then, in the quietness of the moment, she smiled.


	8. 5 Holiday Movies

**It's that time again. Chapter 8, which means only four more chapters till Christmas! As always, thank you for your reviews - every single one makes me smile, and I am grateful for all of you.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"…and every year we spend the Saturday before Christmas watching holiday movies," Henry explained.

"All day?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, "Usually we pick ten and vote on them until we get down to five. Mom always chooses the classics, but I – don't, because they're boring," Henry spoke loudly willing Regina to overhear before he leaned closer to Emma, "don't tell Mom this, but I actually kind of like them, mostly because she gets so involved in the stories. It's funny to watch her."

Emma could imagine the formerly stiff-necked mayor fawning over a sappy Christmas tale, and the image delighted her. There were so many sides to Regina she was discovering. This side she desperately wanted to know.

"So, what's the line-up this year?"

Henry closed his eyes, scrunching his nose as he tried to remember.

"It's a Wonderful Life – that was Mom's pick…"

Emma found it eye-opening that the story of a man who realized the importance of family to create a meaningful existence garnered Regina's vote. Perfectly predictable. She probably cried over that one.

"…then I chose Elf, of course. Mom says she doesn't like that one, but she does. I catch her laughing behind her hands every time. We both agreed on a Charlie Brown Christmas, and this year Mom snuck in A Christmas Carol, but that's okay because I got How The Grinch Stole Christmas, which she mocks endlessly."

"Of course I do, the characters are ridiculous," Regina set a stack of DVD's on the kitchen table, and spread them around.

"Will you do the honours, Henry?"

He smiled and walked over to the table where Regina stood, and the five finalists lay. His mother covered his eyes with her hands, and Henry grabbed a DVD from the table.

"And this years leading film," Henry announced, his sight returned to him, "is A Christmas Carol. Good. Get the boring stuff out of the way."

Regina lightly smacked his shoulder, feigning irritation. Henry rolled his eyes and they loaded up with mugs of hot cocoa (with cinnamon and whipped cream, of course) and a massive bowl of steaming, buttery popcorn and made their way to the couch.

Regina automatically curled up on one end, tucking her legs underneath her, and cradling a mug in her hands. Emma desperately wanted to curl up next to her and kiss that stray speck of whipped cream off her lips, but – no. Henry was here. They hadn't had a chance to talk to him yet. She resigned herself to watching these films as a single entity in a room of temptation - all looking and no touching. Emma slid on her black-rimmed glasses, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, enjoying the burning of Regina's eyes on her.

Henry sat cross-legged on the couch between them, the bowl of popcorn in his lap. Despite his earlier protests, he still studied the screen like a textbook, jumping at the ghosts, and trying to disguise his joy when Scrooge gave up being scrooge-like and yelled, "Yes! Yes, I do! I like Christmas. I LOVE Christmas!" Emma almost thought she saw his lips mouth the words with him.

Movie two was fun. Henry had been right. Elf was Regina's demise. She tried to keep a straight face. She tried so hard, sucking in her cheeks, biting her lip, scowling at the screen, but to no avail. By the time, Buddy was singing in the department store, Regina may as well have been up there with him. The sparkle in Henry's eyes, as he shot Emma an 'I told you so' look was priceless. Emma found her heart settling in, embracing the lengthy Saturday ahead of her.

The Grinch flew by in a haze of lessons learned and an overabundance of green. Regina's eye rolls at the ridiculous Whos in Whoville made Emma laugh, and she may have focussed more on her Queen's reactions than the movie itself. Regina stole glances in between Emma's sneaky peeks. Like shy schoolgirls stealing glances over textbooks, each one's eyes darting back to the screen when they were caught. By the time the ending of the third movie rolled around, Emma was wondering if five movies was a feasible plan. Three felt like too many already, but she endured. Regina's dramatization of the ending rhyme encouraged her. The brunette lip-synced perfectly with the narrator:

And he puzzled and puzzled, till his puzzler was sore

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a story

Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more."

They recessed, tumbling off the couch and back into the kitchen for finger foods and eggnog, coming back as the sun was setting for the remaining two films on the list. Regina was finding it increasingly harder not to touch Emma, not to kiss her, and smile at her the way she was growing accustomed to doing, especially with those infernal glasses on her face. There was something so appealing about them that she just couldn't put her finger on. And when Emma would scrunch her nose to push them back up – Regina almost lost it.

"Are you two dating now?" Henry asked as he put the Charlie Brown DVD in to play. It was matter-of-fact, as if he, like the whole of Storybrooke, had been awaiting the inevitable.

Regina took the lead, "Why do you ask, Henry?"

"Come on, Mom. You took her to a ballet when you could have tortured me with that, and you two look at each other with heart eyes all the time. Besides, I saw you kissing on the couch on Thursday."

"Heart eyes?" Regina repeated, her face scrunched in confusion.

"You saw what!?" Emma probed, her green eyes bright with panic.

"I saw you two kissing. The TV reflects a lot, and you were whispering kinda loudly. I have amazing hearing at Christmas, you know."

Emma's face bloomed crimson, and beads of sweat formed on her temple. Words escaped her. When Regina finally spoke, Emma was eternally grateful.

"How do you feel about Emma and I dating, Henry?"

"Well, I wish you wouldn't kiss in public."

"Noted – but – what do you think about us?"

"What kid wouldn't want his parents together?" He sat back on the couch, remote in hand, and skipped to the menu of 'A Charlie Brown Christmas.' It was normal, no questions asked; just a family, together, as it should be.

Emma regained her composure enough to stop gawking at the mature kid slouched between his two mothers bopping in rhythm to the Peanuts theme. Regina caught her eye and smiled reassuringly. Emma's heart calmed, a sense of peace spreading through her.

Regina moved her lips, catching the blonde's attention. It took her narrowed gaze and several takes to understand the words Regina was forming wordlessly over their son's head.

"What is heart eyes?"

' _Oh, my poor technologically challenged_ _ **girl**_ _,'_ Emma spun the word in her head, feeling it bounce off the every empty crevice, filling her completely. There were so many words she could now use, so many moments they had yet to have, so many feelings to explore. Emma stared right into Regina's eyes, pouring nothing but love into the gaze, hoping she received the answer.

"I see," Regina mouthed, a soft blush creeping across her face.

Emma leaned her cheek against her son's head, murmuring a soft thank you. Henry leaned against her shoulder, sensing the craving she had for comfort. It killed Regina on the other side of the couch. This wouldn't do at all. Within seconds, she was pressed against Henry's other side, sandwiching him between a Swan and a Queen. One hand brushed Emma's cheek, moisture meeting her finger.  
She peeked over Henry's head to see the few tears that had fallen from emerald eyes. Emma sat perfectly still, soaking the moment, barely acknowledging the spotted puppy walking across the screen with a Santa Hat on.

Henry didn't move. The last few years were such a blur, a cacophony of voices and curses and shadows. When he first brought Emma home, it was to be the Saviour, to rescue him and the town from the grasp of the Evil Queen. He had no thought to Regina's hurt, no idea of the pain he caused her as he ran into the house _she_ had raised him in with those sharp words on his tongue. _'I found my real Mom.'_ He had no idea how the slamming doors locked her heart tighter than it had been since her mother's fist had been around Daniel's heart. He knew he was wrong, but he didn't quite know why.

Now, her little boy was so much older. Her whirlwind of a child had come home and, in keeping with the season, had found peace. Regina gently leaned against his shoulder, feeling a tingling beginning as Emma found her hair and began weaving her fingers through it. There was redemption. For the first time she believed in hope, believed that sometimes life brings second chances, sometimes the darkness is suffocated by love. Relaxation fell over Regina, and she fixed her eyes back on the television screen.

Linus Van Pelt's frank face shared his words of wisdom, "I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all really. Maybe it just needs a little love."

* * *

Somewhere between Charlie Brown and It's a Wonderful Life, Henry had built a makeshift bed on the floor, where he was now curled up fast asleep. Somewhere between Clarence's desire for wings and George Bailey's breakdown, Regina's sleepy head had found its way to Emma's shoulder. Somewhere between a broken heart and a stubborn will, Emma wrapped her arms around her queen. Somewhere between Bailey's madness and sweet realization, Regina had fallen asleep in Emma's arms.

Somewhere, in a mansion, on a snowy Saturday before Christmas, a lost little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever would, stared at the glittering lights of a tree and held the woman she loved. In that silent moment, with nothing but the falling snow and the crackling fire to hear her, she released the words that had been on the tip of her tongue.

"I love you."


	9. 4 Toppled Sleds

**This chapter is quite a bit shorter than I anticipated, but my day filled up rather quickly. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this little vignette of SwanMills in the snow. :)**

 **Thank you all for your support.**

* * *

Sunday morning dawned bright and early. Regina hit snooze violently, groggily wondering why her alarm went off on a Sunday. Last night had been late, and she must have set it by accident. She could hear muted strains from Henry's Xbox downstairs. Her head warned her that after a day of movies, he really shouldn't be back in front of a screen, but her body was too tired to protest. Instead, she curled further under the feather duvet, soaking in the warmth, and let her mind wander.

Her thoughts, like most mornings, were generally not cohesive. They scrambled from meals plans to work schedules to Christmas gifts to Emma – only backwards this time. Emma was the first face on her mind this morning, the first sweet thought that made her smile. Though the duvet wrapped around her like a cloud, she wished for Emma's arms, envisioning what it would be like to wake up beside the blonde with the security she experienced last night.

Her imaginings carried her away, leaving her oblivious to the purple smoke easing from her hand. Only when the bed shook slightly, and a half-asleep Emma appeared next to Regina, did the brunette come back to reality. The blonde blinked once…twice, disbelief melting away the fog in her eyes.

"Regina!? What happened?"

"I – I think I summoned you."

Emma rolled her eyes, "Is this going to happen all the time now?"

"No, I was just thinking about yesterday and, picturing you…here."

Emma settled back on the plush pillows, her hands linked behind tousled curls. A soft blush crept over her face. Silently, Regina inched closer. Emma didn't move, not to welcome or repel. Regina was less than six inches away now, feeling the sweet sleepy warmth radiating off her girl. That word – _that word_ still filled her with hope.

She lay her head on Emma's arm, wrapping herself in that warmth, and kissed the blonde's cheek. Emma untangled her hands, and curled securely around Regina. Long fingers spread over her shoulders and downwards, settling in the small of her back.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

She could feel Regina's smile against her skin in reply, "Good morning, darling."

The contented sighs of the woman in her arms tugged at Emma's heart. Seconds turned into minutes turned into an hour as they breathed one another in.

"We are going to have to get up sometime."

Emma groaned, pulling Regina closer in denial, "Why? Mornings are cruel."

"Duty calls." The ever-practical mayor spoke, though her body screamed other words.

Emma yawned, "I hate duty. Henry wanted to go sledding today. Let's do that instead."

Regina shifted her head against Emma's chest, and she took it as a yes. Sledding it was.

* * *

"Let's make a snowman!" Henry's enthusiasm spurred his mothers on. They began rolling balls of snow, and chasing each other, fuelled by the energy of a fresh snowfall. Henry finished the largest one first, rounding the sphere to perfection. Meanwhile, Emma was pouring all her strength into lifting the second ball. It was amusing, and almost painful to watch. She rolled on top of it, tried to use her boots as leverage, dug snowy mittens under the mound, but to no avail. Regina, laughter trapped in her closed mouth, finally helped her. Together, they hauled the second ball up and onto its counterpart. The head was last, and the simplest.

Emma darted around the field like a squirrel, collecting sticks and stones to deck out the snowman. A secret smirk crossed Regina's lips, as she imagined a blonde Scrat bouncing around the ice trying to hide his nuts. She darted back to Regina and Henry, dumping her findings in front of the snowman - eyes, mouth, arms, and Henry's red scarf. Emma stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"Crap. You know what we forgot?"

Henry nodded, staring forlornly at the ground, "A carrot."

Emma reached into her pocket and tossed Henry the carrot with a wink. He beamed, obviously impressed. Now, the snowman was complete. Henry studied him from all angles until he was fully satisfied with his handiwork. Then, leaving his mothers to assess their creation, he grabbed a sled and started up the hill. Emma followed, tugging Regina with her.

* * *

"What's this?" Regina motioned to a colourful sheet of plastic the blonde was sitting on.

"A magic carpet. Get on."

Regina's shook her head frantically. Fear radiated from her chocolate eyes. Emma took her hand reassuringly. What she didn't know was that Regina nearly had a panic attack every time Henry went sledding. What she didn't know was the lurch of her heart when she saw children flying down the hill and breakneck speed and feared for them. What she didn't know was the time Henry hit a patch of ice and came home with a bloody nose and Regina had vowed never to let him near a sled again. Of course, that vow was broken when Henry begged endlessly, but she was always wary.

Regina didn't know why she allowed Emma to pull her onto her 'magic carpet,' or why she knelt trustingly in front of her. She felt like a child leaping from a swing, all at once afraid to let go and afraid to hold on. Emma wrapped an arm around her, and slid the mat forward.

"Wait!" Regina panicked.

It was too late. Emma gave one solid push and they began flying down the hill. Regina shrieked, leaning back against Emma, as bitter wind blew at her face. It all happened so quickly there was no time to react. The mat swerved, altering its course right towards their snowman. Henry's cry to steer came too late and two warm bodies found themselves upside down in the snow.

Regina groaned and pushed herself up from her snowy bed. Emma hopped to her feet and offered the queen a hand. Regina shot her a meaningful glare, but grudgingly accepted the offer.

"This is why we can't have nice things."

"What is why?" Emma dusted Regina's hat off, picking out bits of shattered carrot which fell to the ground, brightening the stark whiteness.

"I told you I wasn't ready, and you pushed anyway!"

"Tell me the truth, was it a thrill?"

Emma was scanning her face, those deep eyes ready to burn at any sign of a lie. Regina bit her lip, ignoring the racing of her heart. Yes, it was a thrill. Somehow, her pride was forbidding her to reveal that fact. Emma didn't need to know _everything_. Her failures became reasons to gloat. Not that this was a failure. Not that Emma gloated. It was just Regina's fear trumping trust.

"Fine. It was a _bit_ of a thrill to go soaring down the hill into a snowman while yelling bloody murder at you."

Emma's cheeky grin rivalled the winter sun, "Good things happen when you lose control, my Queen."

"Is that so?" Regina raised a sceptical eyebrow, "Do you have any examples to back that up?"

Emma wrapped Regina in a hug, setting her hand securely on her back. In a fluid motion, she kissed her lips and tipped her backwards, breathing in her gasp. Regina clutched at Emma, seeking for purchase, until she found the strong arms that were holding her up. She latched on, feeling an unfamiliar emotion envelop her.  
Love – that had come before. Security – her mind flew back to the morning. No, it was something new, something startling and terrifying and beautiful. Trust. Yes, that was it. Like a puzzle, she added that piece to her memory, mentally counting the pieces she had already gathered; hope, love, security, loyalty, trust.

Henry walked by his mother's leaning tower on his way to salvage the shattered snowman. Emma caught his muttered words, "I made one request, and they can't even do that right. Sheesh, Olaf, what am I going to do?"

The two parted, Emma nodding her head towards the boy, causing Regina to burst out laughing. She walked over and took Henry's hand, stooping to pick up Emma's magic carpet. Together they walked back to the top of the hill, and Regina sat down on the back, patting the spot in front of her. Emma, a few seconds behind, grabbed the other slippery sheet, and sat cross-legged beside them. They flew down the slope, Regina's eyes bright, as Henry bounced around in front of her. Near the end, as their ride slowed, Emma reached for her hand, upsetting the balance, and they tumbled off into the thick snow.

Lying there, three faces watching the sky, three smiles exchanged, two mothers plus one anticipating what would be, and where life would go from here. There was no rush, no added burdens, just the knowledge that step by step they were writing their happy ending.


	10. 3 Gingerbread Wo-men

December 23rd – the day when children, hyped up on anticipation, can't wait any longer. The day when parks are loaded with snow fortresses while white battles rage. The day when children come home as snowy yeti's, and are ordered into warm baths, all the while dreaming of Christmas Day.

Emma walked into Regina's kitchen and set the grocery bag on the counter. The brunette beauty was bending over the stove stirring a thick liquid.

"Milk and eggs, my Queen," Emma said, depositing the goods in the fridge, "Where's Henry?"

"Wrapping gifts in his room."

The blonde snuck up behind Regina, leaning against her shoulder, "Whatcha making?"

"Sugarplums."

Emma gawked at the small, dark candies set to harden on the tray, "Those are _sugarplums_? I can't say I've ever had visions of those dancing through my head."

Regina turned in Emma's embrace and gave her a quick kiss, then popped a sugarplum into her mouth. The blonde moaned at its sweet flavour, capturing Regina's lips again in a sugary kiss. They pulled apart, as Henry tromped down the stairs, respecting his previous request to keep the kissing to a minimum in his presence. He ducked into the living room and placed two decently wrapped packages under the tree, before entering the kitchen.

"Sugarplum?" Regina held out a hard ball to him.

Henry accepted it eagerly and stuck it in his mouth.

"What's the plan for today?" he inquired.

"Why, cookies of course," Regina remarked, setting a container of flour on the island. Henry grabbed a large bowl, while Emma took a block of butter and some eggs from the fridge. Measuring, pouring, whisking, stirring, the kitchen was transformed into a cacophony of laughter and floury faces.

Regina got the brunt of it, her top white from Henry's spontaneous hugs, and her face blanched from the numerous times Emma had smeared her cheeks. She couldn't be annoyed. Not with those imps frolicking around her, wreaking havoc and creating magic.

Regina stepped back and watched the scene, pulling herself from the madness to observe. Emma stood by the island, hair swooped into a messy bun with curls framing her flushed face. Henry, his hair mussed and white from his mother's hand, perched on a nearby stool. There was flour everywhere, on the counter, on the floor, on their clothes, cheeks, noses, and dimpled chins. It was a beautiful sight, like a first snowfall when the world is peaceful, yet so alive with creatures darting out to taste winter.

 _And this I have – this is mine._

Emma pounded the dough, and Regina fixated on her biceps rippling through her shirt. Her attention was torn by Henry's rebuke, as Emma shoved a chunk of dough in her mouth.

"Emm-mma!"

Emma smacked her lips loudly, watching her son wriggle in disapproval, "Mmm, gingerbread."

"You're gross," Henry muttered.

Regina entered the scene again, playfully punching Emma's arm, before running her hand over the firm muscles. Emma chuckled deep in her throat, a sound so low only Regina could hear.

"You like that, huh?"

"I like you," Regina whispered, planting a kiss on Emma's pale cheek.

Henry spun into action, "Hey, I saw that, and even if I didn't, you have flour on your lips, Mom."

Regina licked her lips, scrunching her nose at her son. She opened the side cupboard, hauling out a box of cookie cutters and put the _kids_ to work. Henry darted for the snowman, pressing the metal shape down on even dough, but Emma reached for a lonely reindeer, one eye trained on Regina's face. The brunette got the message loud and clear.

"Cupid," she mouthed, earning the eye-roll she knew was coming.

Henry had busied himself creating an army, which Regina was surprised to find had gingerbread women in its midst. She wondered if he had seen this coming from months before – or years. If anybody could sense the foreshadowing of their relationship, it was probably Henry. He had walked beside them from the beginning, through anger, hurt, frustration. He watched them grow and change, like a parent would their child, but this child watched his parents.

It was too much for a child to handle. Too much pressure to carry, but he endured it like a pro. He brought them together, and in the last few months, he had kept them together. He requested dinners with both, often dragging Emma home to test one of Regina's newest dishes. He knew. He had that wise intuition that is rare in one so young, that these two were created to break each other's curse.

Then again, he was the author, the creative one with an eye for stories. And, Regina knew he was watching theirs with eager anticipation, the story that had floated in his head for so long taking root and sprouting wings.

He tucked a gingerbread man between two gingerbread women on the tray, stopping to arrange them ever so perfectly. Family. Henry struggled so much with that word and its meaning. The past awakened a flood of emotions. Regina had pushed him, and then pulled back, her own memories haunting her. He remembered the confession on the stairs before he chose Emma. _I don't know how to love very well._

She didn't know how that moment ignited a change in him. Yes, he left with Emma. Yes, his attitude was not much better in the following weeks, but he had promised himself someday… _someday_ …she would learn what true love felt like. He was thrilled beyond words that Emma was the one to show her.

* * *

The cookies went into the heat and they came out crisp, filling the whole house with the smell of Christmas. Regina mixed the icing and the decorating began. Emma found her niche decorating the snowmen as various townspeople. She prompted Regina and Henry to guess after every creation of white fairytale caricatures. They indulged her, refusing to admit how much they enjoyed her little game. There was Gold with a cane, a suit, and straggly hair, and Snow, her mouth open in perpetual shock. Next came Charming, with a dashing smile on his face and a sword in hand. Ruby was scantily clad, even for a gingerbread woman, in reds and given long, dark hair, and Granny with her sensible apron and a kind smile.

Best of all, there was Henry with a tiny chocolate storybook Emma had detailed with a toothpick, and Regina in a fitted, black skirt and a sweet smile, and Emma decked out in her red leather jacket and jeans.

"You have quite the talent, Emma," Regina admired the slew of delectable characters.

Emma rolled her eyes, unsure of how to receive the compliment, "Let's see yours."

"Henry," Regina motioned for him to start.

He pointed aimlessly to six rather normally decorated snowmen with chocolate chip eyes and pretzel arms. Emma chatted about their pros, her words falling on deaf ears as Henry remained mesmerized by her handiwork. Regina blocked her end of the counter, pretending to be absorbed in Emma's speech about how 'natural the snowmen looked, just like they were in their element.'

"Where is yours, Regina?"

"Mine?" the brunette asked as innocently as she could while dragging the sprinkles in front of her masterpiece. "You really don't need to see mine."

"Aw, come on."

"Emma, yours are enough for all of us – you might as well have done the whole tray!"

"Regina…" she furrowed her brow, forcing a sheepish look from her counterpart.

"Emma."

"Show me."

"No need."

Emma scrambled over, pinning the struggling woman in between firm stomach and cold counter.  
"Aw, yuck, not again, you two," Henry muttered, mumbling something about 'crazy kids' under his breath, as he left the room.

"We're going to traumatize him," Regina worried.

"The kid who was held captive by Pan in Neverland and has lived through multiple curses? I don't think a little kiss will do it."

"Oh, and that was your intention?"

Emma smirked, reaching around Regina to move the sprinkle container blocking her view, "No, my intention was to see your cookie."

She held the brunette's hands in hers to prevent escape, and peeked over her shoulder. There, on a plate, in a pool of white icing shaped like hills, stood a reindeer all alone with a wistful expression on his face and a rosy red nose. Underneath, carved in the snowy landscape was the word _Belonging._

"You know, I always kind of identified with Rudolph," Emma quipped.

Regina sighed and almost physically sagged under Emma's touch, "Its stupid…I got a little carried away."

"Really, Regina, he's beautiful. I've never seen a more beautiful reindeer in all my life."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

"Thank you," the queen smiled, swooping some icing with her finger and tracing Emma's lips. Emma captured the sweet finger in her mouth, sucking gently on it. A giddy wave swept over Regina, feeling the promises of things to come.

"Are you guys done in there?" Henry called from the living room, "I need a cookie."


	11. 2 Revealed Secrets

Emma plopped down on the stool, watching Regina tidy up the rest of the breakfast dishes. The way her hips moved, as she walked from the sink to the cupboard hypnotized the blonde momentarily, until Regina caught her staring, and her mouth went dry.

"So, what are we doing today?"

"Doing?" the mayor faced her squarely, "who said we were doing anything? Maybe it should be your turn to plan something for us to do."

"Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed."

"You're one to talk. Every morning you come prancing in here and expect me to have the day planned."

Emma slid off the stool, "I – I can go. I thought these were all traditions. I didn't really think about you needing a break."

Regina sighed, reaching for her hand as she tried to leave, "I'm sorry, Emma. Last night was frustrating and I shouldn't be taking this out on you."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry I wasn't more sensitive." Emma wrapped her arms around the brunette, cupping dark waves in her hand. Regina melted against her.

"Listen, they were wrong. You know that. I know that. You stood up for yourself and people are going to hate you for it. But, you know what?"

Regina lifted tear-stained cheeks. Emma brushed a soothing thumb over the wet spots. She hadn't even realized the woman was crying. She was so silent, so solitarily burdened. Always alone with her fears.

"You know what?" Emma's voice was softer now, guarding instead of pushing.

"What?" Regina exhaled.

"I love you for it. I love you for defending you – us."

Regina burrowed her head in Emma's neck, her lips barely pressing against the blonde's collarbone. Those words – they were so new, so unexpected every time she heard them. Love; a familiarly foreign concept. Like happy, like surrender, relax, breathe. And somehow, this one soul made the improbable sound feasible.

"How much did Ruby tell you?"

Emma planted a kiss on Regina's mussed hair before answering, "Everything."

Regina held her tighter.

"You can tell me again. I want _your_ words."

"After you left, I had to go to the store. Hook was there, and…he mocked me," Regina took a wavering breath, "in front of everyone. I know people hate me anyway. I cursed them. Why shouldn't they? His words dug deeper though. They bypassed everything I did."

"He attacked _you_."

"He said I brainwashed you, and that he could have given you so much more fulfillment. He said you would never be happy with me, and I would never be enough for you. That you could never love me; that you needed a _real_ man to love you."

Midnight eyes questioned hers, "I know I'm broken, Emma. I know I can't love very well, and I don't want to hurt you. If this isn't going to work, I need you to leave. Now."

The blonde's silence worried her. Emma was the comforter, the steady word of assurance. Now, she was silent. If not for the warmth in her eyes, Regina would have fled. Instead, she stayed, retreating ever so slightly into her shell. The warmth built, a cinder morphing into a burning coal, bellowing into a flame.

Brilliant green now red-hot, Emma lifted Regina's chin, "We are all broken. Every human alive is broken. We all struggle with love. It's hard for everyone. That's why we fight, why we argue, why we love so fiercely, because we're struggling. But, Regina, I found the one who makes the struggle worth it, the one who holds my heart even as I try to build walls around it. The one who breaks down those walls time after time to keep me safe and open. You know Hook was wrong. I know you know it. So, prove him wrong. Prove them all wrong. Stay with me."

The queen nodded, gripping her white knight impossibly closer, and breathing a thank you into blonde curls. A swirling labyrinth of words she wanted to say, but didn't have the strength to voice, flew around her thoughts. Unsure of how to express herself, she simply stayed in Emma's arms, sometimes dropping her lips to warm skin, sometimes rubbing her back soothingly, sometimes stopping to stare into her eyes and be met with the same understanding she had given.

* * *

"Let's cuddle," Emma bounced on the bed, wiggling backwards into the plush pillows. Regina held out her hands in a vain attempt to stop her, but quickly resigned herself to having a Swan dancing around on her bed.

Emma rubbed her hands over the flannel sheets, laughing as her queen looked almost ashamed at having been caught with something less than silk or Rumple's woven gold on her bed.

"Come, sit."

Regina sat down tentatively, forgetting this was her bed and her room and her home. It felt foreign now, with Emma beside her. Not like something to be feared, but rather an adventure. Emma tugged her closer, drawing her in for a hug.

"Is the big, bad Queen scared of me?"

"No!" Regina gasped, seconds before her face fell, "I'd rather you not call me that."

Emma pulled back, "Okay – what's up, darling?"

"It's not really anything. I just don't quite feel like myself tonight."

"Stop overthinking."

"I'm not."

"You lie. I can hear your thoughts from here."

Regina leaned a weary head on Emma's shoulder, "What are they saying?"

"You're worrying about us, about how our relationship is going to work in a town where everybody sticks their nose in everybody else's business. You're afraid of what this might do to Henry, and how he will cope. You're worried about me and if I decide to bolt how that will affect everything."

Regina's heart skipped a beat, "You're good."

"Well, when you've spent a couple years studying someone," Emma brushed a few strands of hair aside, and kissed Regina's forehead, "you learn a thing or two."

They cuddled together, enjoying the quietness of the moment. Regina drowned her worries in the acceptance Emma provided. When she sighed and moved closer to Emma's jaw line, the blonde responded.

"Does my queen want another kiss?"

"Perhaps."

Regina leaned towards Emma's mouth, abruptly interrupted by a finger against her lips.

"Uh-uh-uh, first you tell me a deep, dark secret."

Regina gazed at her through hooded eyes fraught with thought, "I cuddle pillows in my sleep."

"Oh, please, everybody does that."

"Even the big, tough sheriff?"

"Especially her."

"You tell me one secret."

"Okay. Here it is. I fell in love with you the second Henry brought me to Storybrooke. I hated you for so many reasons, but my first thought while sipping cider with you that first night was more geared towards getting those delicious lips on mine."

"Only took a few years, dear."

"Uh-huh, imagine that."

Regina wove her fingers through Emma's hair, "What did you end up getting Henry?"

"A drone," Emma replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Regina scoffed at the idea, but let it go. This was Christmas. Emma could have purchased a skidoo for Henry, and she wouldn't have cared; as long as they were together on Christmas Day. She closed her eyes and began dreaming of forever, of dozens more Christmases like this one.

The pain of the night before was easing, Hook's taunting face gone from her thoughts. Why should she care what he said when she was wrapped in the arms of the woman who had chosen her? For the first time in forever, Regina _knew_ she was loved, and that was the greatest gift of all. The knowledge that if storms raged, and she knew they would, Emma loved her. If trouble came pounding on their door, and it would, Emma loved her. If the world shifted again, bringing danger and trials, Emma loved her.

And, even more powerful than all those hardships, she found that her once hardened heart was soft and supple, because she loved. She loved her life. She loved her son. She loved the woman planting gentle kisses over her face and in her hair.

Love, not anger, is the most powerful magic of all.

* * *

 **Final chapter tomorrow…are you ready?**


	12. 1 Golden Ring

Emma had slept over, which was a novelty in her mind. Waking up in the fluffy guest bed, with white pillows and satin sheets filled her with a sense of spoiled awe. Henry was tapping at her door. She tumbled out of bed in a cream shirt and pajama pants, ready to watch her son attack the presents under the tree. Regina, much to her surprise was already awake and semi-alert, holding out a cup of coffee to the stumbling blonde as she came down the stairs.

"Merry Christmas, Emma."

"Merry Christmas," she yawned, washing her words down with the tantalizing liquid.

Three stockings hung above the fireplace, each name embroidered in curved letters. This was the first time in her life Regina had ever received a stocking. It was not a tradition in the Enchanted Forest, and Henry had been only a child in Storybrooke. Emma, on the other hand, had never received a stocking filled with thoughtful preparation. Regina treasured every item, relishing the experience of reaching in to find that one more trinket or well-planned gift.

Emma felt tears filling her eyes, as she pulled her life from the stocking. All the ornaments she had missed told her story. Henry had even added one, a photo of each of their faces on three cement sledders. He had painted them himself, even dating the back and writing in tiny print _Best Christmas Ever._ When Emma asked him why those three words were chosen to be immortalized forever that she found out the reason.

"Cause this Christmas you and Mom fell in love," he quipped with a smile, returning to his stocking with Christmas wonder.

Regina pulled the last box from her stocking. Inside, she saw the golden Swan with its regal crown, and gasped in awe.

Henry peeked up from his spot on the floor, "What did you get, Mom?"

"It's your mother and I," Emma explained, "Swan Queen."

Regina smiled, tears filling her eyes, "So it is. Thank you, Emma. It's perfect."

She held out the open chain, and Emma placed it around her neck, stroking the soft skin for a second before sitting back down beside Regina.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

* * *

After a sleepy morning, a blissful afternoon, and a large dinner at the Charmings, Christmas Day was coming to a close. David, little Neal, Emma, and Henry stepped outside to put the presents in the car, and Regina took a moment to confront Snow.

"I have decided to propose to Emma."

Snow's eyes widened suspiciously.

"I will not ask you to accept me. I know you are angry about the past, and I understand why. I am not going to ask your permission, because Emma is a grown woman who can make her own decisions. If she denies me, I will accept that. I just wanted you to know, so you have time to grow accustomed to the idea."

Snow didn't move. For all the surprise sprawled across her face, there was a sense of knowingness in her eyes. Regina's mind shot back to the diner on that night which seemed decades ago. Snow had not turned away after witnessing the kiss that sealed Emma in Regina's heart indefinitely.

Regina nodded to herself, digesting her revelation. She took her stepdaughter's silence as her answer. Affirmations are bold and loud, albeit abrasive at times. Dismissals are silent and hushed. Regina had prepared to be met with disdain at her declaration. She agreed the whole situation was absurd.

Take the fact that prophesied evil met prophesied good and decided that all hell would be forded for one moment in her arms. If that was not enough, there was the matter of a son, birthed by one, raised by the other, pulling two worlds onto a collision course neither was prepared to encounter. And, again, the label his birthmother rejected becoming the very way to break the curse – _her_ curse. Not to mention the family dynamics. How does one go about proposing to their step-granddaughter? Regina's brain yelled no, but her body and heart and soul screamed yes. _I have found the one – the one my heart loves._ Destiny – if it exists – is stronger than doubt.

Snow's eyes were still glassy when the mayor exited her twisting thoughts. She stepped backwards until she felt the door at her back. She would just leave, give the pixie-haired princess time to process the fact that her darling daughter had fallen for their deadliest foe. Regina turned, the door handle now brushing against her palm.

"Wait!"

Snow darted into her room, barely an extension of the kitchen, and returned carrying a box. She handed it to Regina, who opened it to find a sparkling diamond ring.

"David gave it to me years ago, but I barely wore it. We had another one crafted to size here. I happen to know that one is Emma's size, and if you wanted to use it, I would be honoured."

Regina swallowed the tears, unwilling to cry before Snow, "I thought you would object to our marriage?"

"I will admit – I struggled with accepting this, but I love my daughter and - I love you. Emma is…happier, lighter when she is with you and Henry. She laughs more. And you've changed. Every day you're more like the sweet girl who rescued me from my horse, and less like my frightful pursuer. You are a hero, and I trust you."

Damn those tears. Her unwillingness shattered, Regina let a few escape, sending Snow into a frenzy of hugs and comfort and tears of her own.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the ballet," Snow whispered as they parted, solving Regina's mystery, "I thought you two could use a break."

* * *

They were hand in hand walking down Main Street, the snow drifting around them. Henry had run on ahead, forming snowballs and throwing them at fences and trees. Emma separated, grabbing her own handful and aiming for her son's back, but missing the moving target completely. In the dim light it was hard to see. She shrugged, stretching her hand out to regain Regina's, but she was not there.

"Emma?" the husky voice resonated behind her.

Regina knelt down in the middle of the snowy street. The lights from the star cast a colourful shadow over the shivering couple. The brunette slipped her gloves off, leaving them laying on the frozen ground. She reached into her pocket, wrapping one hand around a tiny box, and with stormy eyes gazed up at her love.

"Emma Swan, I have fought to deny this love for you. I have pushed you away, hurt you, and yet you keep saving me. Right now, I don't want to run anymore. I want to surrender. _You_ are my saviour. _You_ are my happy ending. _You_ are the one I want to love and adore for the rest of my life."

The blonde's eyes shone with diamond tears.

"I want this to last – this feeling that life is becoming so dangerously perfect. The life you bring to Henry and I. I want more. So, Emma Swan, will you marry me?"

The blonde sank to her knees in the snow, pulling Regina close until they were a hairbreadth apart. Then, just as her lips found their home, she whispered, " _Yes_."

The brunette let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry of delight. It was a risk. She had prepared for heartbreak, for another mockery of her demise to be unhappy, but here was Emma - holding her, accepting her, wanting her back.

She tugged the mitten off Emma's hand and slid an ice cold ring onto her finger. All the while, Emma was distracted kissing Regina's forehead, nose, cheeks, lips, any place she could find before looking down on the never-ending circle that now bound their stories together. It was surreal. After all the pain, the one she longed for was choosing her. The ring she imagined would feel restricting, instead wrapped around her finger with the warmth of promise. She instinctively leaned forward with kiss-swollen lips, anxious for more.

And the clock tower rang midnight. It was Christmas.

Henry stood still watching the scene as he flew his drone around the kissing couple, unable to hear the words they spoke. He smiled, this time not annoyed by the kiss, simply waiting for his mothers to rise, before dashing through the snow and crashing into them with a hug. It was complete, they were complete, and the gap between was filled.

Later, with a tray of cookies and candy canes between them, hot cocoa steaming in each mug, Regina leaned against Emma's shoulder. Emma wrapped an arm around her fiancée and buried her nose in soft hair, breathing in the sweet scent she already learned. She promised herself never to take this for granted. The sights, sounds, and senses of home and family and love.

Regina nuzzled into her shoulder, "When I asked you what you wanted for Christmas, what was the unspoken answer?"

"You," Emma's eyed twinkled in the candlelight, "always you."

* * *

 **Your turn. The adventure continues in your own imagination. Enjoy!**

 **Thank you once again for all the reviews and the follows and the favourites. You have made the last 12 days so rewarding.**

 **I hope you all have a MERRY CHRISTMAS. :)**


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